


Customs Of Portraiture

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Painting, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the customs of Earth portraiture are unfamiliar to her, there are other Earth customs that are much more pleasurable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Customs Of Portraiture

“May I see it?”

Teyla is uncertain of the customs for such a situation as this, but Evan does not seem to mind the question. He glances up, and there is a sudden bashfulness in his expression, in the way he stands, with the brush still in his hand and the wooden board held in the other.

“Yeah,” he says after a moment, and she is surprised at the hoarseness that requires him to repeat himself.

She climbs out of the sheets and pads across the room to survey the image of her he has captured with his eyes and his hand, dabbling in the aromatic pigments again and again, transferring it to the thick cloth that covers the wooden frame.

He watches her approach him, and a flush rises in his cheeks. “Uh, Teyla...”

Her mouth curves, a delight in his appreciation of her body, and a wicked amusement at his embarassment. “Who will see?”

“I... That’s not the point,” he says as he turns away to put down palette and brush. She suspects that he is taking a moment to compose himself, but her amusement vanishes as she sees the result of his efforts.

Her people do not have this kind of representation, so solid in form, so vivid in colour. Her eyes look back at her, a smudge of rich brown on the cloth, her mouth parts in wide laughter instead of dropping in surprise, and the folds of cloth around her body glow with the sunlight that has already relinquished its hold on the bed.

Evan comes to stand beside her, wiping his hands on his trousers. “It’s not finished,” he says apologetically. “I’ll need to touch it up later. Just a few small details.”

“I do not know much about the tastes of Earth in this,” Teyla tells him, dragging her eyes from the glowing colours, “but I like it.”

He comes to stand behind her, and his mouth traces her shoulder as his fingers trace the skin over her hipbones with gentle touch. “I prefer the subject.”

Heat radiates from Evan, a warm flush against her back and the brush of his hips against her. She cannot help but smile at the simple honesty of his desire. Or resist the teasing note in her voice as she turns to brush her lips across his cheek. “And we must be sure that you are able to get the details right later.”

“Yes,” he agrees, shepherding her towards the bed. “It’s very important to get the details right.”

“You must be thorough,” she says, smiling as she turns and draws him down to her.

His eyes laugh, the colour of the sky over the sea in the early morning light. “If you insist, Teyla.”

She allows his lips to linger on her mouth and her throat as she moulds the hard lines of his buttocks in her fingers. She welcomes his teeth grazing her nipple and her belly as she traces her fingers along his nape and across his shoulders. And she begs him as his tongue touches her, sweet and slow between her thighs, her hands clenching in the sheets as pleasure seeps over her, drowning her in sensation that is only heightened when Evan fits himself into her body and moves with powerful abandon.

Existence splinters, crashing around her, and he groans as he loses them both to exquisite sensation.

And later, as she slides her fingers across his thigh and watches him grin in male satisfaction, Teyla reflects that if the customs of portraiture are alien to her, then this custom, at least, is pleasurably familiar.


End file.
